The Siren Queen’s eyes narrow. “No. Kill him.”
Whitley meets my eyes for the first time, uncertainty flooding them. She steps forward, with a confidence that’s surprises me. She’s never been the best actor, and right now she’s fooling even me.
She lifts her hand, one claw sharpening as she stares it down. She’s hurt me with that claw before. Only this time, she knows me.
Right? I question myself. For the first time, doubt crosses my mind. I know she had an emotional response to my story. I saw recognition in her eyes. She’d implied she knew we were the subjects of the story...but maybe she hadn’t broken through the magic as deeply as I thought.
Maybe she’s still subdued. Maybe Whitley is gone for good.
I swallow and scoot away from her. I know what I saw, I convince myself. I know she was there. But could it have been just a flash? Covered back over by panic and fear? By my mother’s nearness?
“Do it,” my mother hisses, and Whitley takes another step, squatting down beside me her clawed finger presses against the soft tissue of my neck. I close my eyes but otherwise don’t move.
“Elethura,” Stede’s voice finally rings out. Gently at first.
Whitley presses her claw harder, pressure building. I wince, and then open my eyes as the skin begins to break, warm blood trickling down my neck. I meet her eye, and see the salty tears welling.
“That’s enough, Elethura. You cannot really kill him.”’
“Stop.” The Siren Queen announces.
Whitley lets out a desperate breath and she pulls her claw back. Her teeth are chattering as she stands and faces her master again.
“You’re right, Captain Stede,” my mother says, her voice much calmer now. We passed our first test.
“We’ll need a new subject to test her.”
“Should I bring him up?”
She shakes her head, studying Whitley’s face. “Not yet. I’d like some time with her first.” I swallow. She didn’t fail, but my mother isn’t convinced enough.
“And the boy?”
“Take him with you. My siren could use a break from her training. Couldn’t you?” she adds sweetly, turning to Whitley.
My stomach sinks. We still have five more days. If she takes Whitley back below, she could drown her all over again until her memories are wiped clean once again. How long will she keep us apart? How much longer will this battle continue?
Whitley
Ripping myself from him is like ripping my soul from my body. Like choking for weeks, then finally breathing—air so delicious you’d forgotten something could taste so sweet—and then being dropped right back into suffocating darkness.
I leap into the sea and barely hold back a scream of agony. The Siren Queen—Master, my siren whispers— grabs my upper arm tightly. Tears sting my eyes, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain of her claws digging into my flesh or the distress of leaving my soul mate behind.
That’s what he is—isn’t he? Memories flood back, of the Sea Witch telling us about the twin souls. Powers created to combine. Souls created for one another.
No wonder I couldn’t deny him.
I allow the Siren Queen to pull me through the water, until the sun is so far away that the light is extinguished. Only this time we don’t stop at the ledge. She whips past our rock circle we’ve been sleeping in and pulls me down into the crevice I’ve decided must reach all the way into the center of the earth. A legion of sirens follows us down into the darkness.
Bluff
For the first time since I boarded this ship, the sails are raised. It took only fifteen minutes for Stede to shout the crew into rising. They follow his orders, with yawns and dim eyes, but quick movements.
Stede himself grabs me by the waist, knife pressed to my throat, and pulls me to the front of the ship.
“I’m not going to fight.” I tell him as I offer no resistance other than a heavier foot than usual, but he doesn’t respond. He drags me across the main deck and to the very front of the ship where water splashes in buckets.
He pulls ropes around my wrists, twisting together and then wrapped around the bowsprit, pulled so tight my fingers grow numb in minutes. It’s easily the best knot I’ve seen. Any resistance I give at all simple tightens the grip.
It’s a good thing I won’t be needing to escape then. I don’t intend to go after her, as much as the metaphorical knife in my gut tells me I must. My mind knows better than my heart this time.
I must hope the Siren Queen doesn’t succeed in drowning her memories all over again. I press my eyes closed and ignore the pain.
Stede leans in. We may be leaving the queen behind, but a legion of sirens is following. Behave,” he spits.
I roll my eyes.
“And since we value your life too much to murder you, and your little bitch is off being drowned all over again—I’m sure she’ll thank you for that, by the way—it falls to me to provide proper punishment.” The glint in his eyes causes my stomach to sink. Oh, there’s the Stede I’ve been expecting. Wonderful timing for him to show up.
“I’ve already been punished,” I say, but I know that won’t matter to him.
“Not enough. You think sneaking around behind our backs to meet with your disgusting siren hussy will be forgotten?” He chuckles. “No, no, you’ve given me a wonderful opportunity to try out a little tool I’ve come across.” He nods towards the main deck, and a pirate rushes into his quarters.
“Where are we going?” I ask him, in part to take advantage of the moment to gain information and part to distract myself from the incoming pain.
“Nowhere,” he says with a smile that causes me to look away. I don’t know what it means, and I don’t think I want to. “Sailing around in circles for a few days until your whore is broken and trained sufficiently.”
The pirate returns holding two items, but I want more information. “She sent you to get someone. Who?”
Stede’s rank breath hits my face and I wrinkle my nose. “That, you’ll have to wait and see.” He leans back and winks. “Until then, I have a little game to play.”
I don’t respond.
“You aren’t going to ask about my game?” he says.
I quirk an eyebrow but don’t utter a sound. He won’t get the satisfaction. Not from me.
He grunts in annoyance and turns to the pirate holding a whip with several leather ends, pieces of stone and glass connected to each, and a set of shackles. “Crewman!” Stede shouts to the man, apparently not even knowing his own crew’s name. Jasper holds out the shackles hopefully, but Stede shakes his head.
“What is your game, captain?” Jasper says with a flat voice, not looking me in the eye.
Oh, wonderful. Another friend forced to hurt me to play into the act. I’m getting very, very tired of bluffing. These games are not fun anymore.
“How many hits can we get in before he falls unconscious.”
Bluff
I never black out, but I pretend to. Sixteen lashes, that’s how many I made it through today. My vision grew spotty, my head dizzy, but thoughts of Whitley kept me sharp. Focused.
After hit number fifteen, I let my body go limp, but every moment is accounted for. One last hit as I fell, the cool damp wood touching my cheek as my body collapsed. Water rushes in the background. Salt licks my hair. It shouldn’t have felt good for my head to slam against the deck, but compared to the other option—it was glorious.
Now, as I practically hang from sore wrists at the bow, I find my uncomfortable positioning a blessing. At least my back isn’t rubbing against the wood.
The sun has risen, and my back is constant flames, burning and screaming. I can’t move, can’t risk even the smallest of shifts that would put pressure on my exposed flesh. So I put all the pressure on my hands, simply hoping I don’t lose one from lack of blood flow. At this point, that’s the least of my concerns.
In truth, I don’t see how he could whip me any more for several days, unless he wishes to kill
me. Perhaps we’ll play a different game tomorrow. Goody.
I look out at the open water before me, on my knees, arms stretched out, and leaning over awkwardly. I search for her, in the waves, and in my heart. She’s down there somewhere, who knows how far. Who knows what terrible things are happening to her.
I remember the power I’ve been playing with over the last few weeks. The cool, calming power I’ve started reaching her with. I wonder if I could use it purposefully now. If I can reach her miles away with this magic.
My energy is spent, but I take what little magic I can gather and search for her. Physically, it makes no sense. I no more know where she is with my magic than I do by looking at the dark open water as we sail. Instead, I close my eyes and picture her. My heart contracts and expands as I feel her.
A jolt of excitement hits me, a spark so small I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it. My hands shake, vision blinking in and out. Blackness threatens to take over my consciousness, but I push forward and imagine blue threads of magic wrapping around her.
I don’t know where she is, or if she feels me, but I hold onto that hope as my consciousness slips away.
Whitley
I’m drowning.
The power piles onto my back. It presses into my mind as the Siren Queen and her army whirl magic at me likes it’s a weapon. A wall of swirling waves surrounds me, pushing me down into the ocean floor.
I scream and cry and lay paralyzed as everything I’ve ever known and cared about is ripped from me.
This is my fate. This destructive cycle with no way to escape.
Remember. Love. Lose. Drown. Forget.
I can’t fight it as this primal magic smothers me, presses in until I can’t breathe. I try to hold tight to what I know—hold on to him. Because I don’t want to lose it again. I can’t.
Bluff. My heart cries for him. My soul burns in rage. I want to kill them all. Every single one.
I grip that anger, the determination to destroy this Siren Queen who thinks she can control me like an animal.
I won’t break, I think, just as my defenses shatter.
Bluff
In the morning Jasper brings me fresh water but no food. He cuts my bindings, freeing my hands, and allows me to lay face down on the desk. Salt water periodically splashes up over the bow and onto my back, causing my muscles to clench and me to cry out in anguish.
This must be the torture Stede intends for the day. It hurts more than I can explain, but it also helps to heal. Heal, so he can hurt me more tomorrow.
Even then, I have a hard time wondering if I’ll survive much more. Every breath takes effort. I don’t know how much more I can handle before my body breaks for good. For now, I take what little sleep I can get and hold my calming power out to Whitley. I assume the comfort I find in my mind as I wrap that little strange of power around her is a dream. My imagination. But I hold onto it nonetheless.
I can’t force my mind to do much else. I don’t care who the prisoner is because I can’t afford the energy to wonder. Jasper tries to talk to me, but I can’t utter a word. Breathing hurts. Speaking is impossible.
He leaves within a few minutes.
The sun goes down, and my whole body aches. The open wounds on my back throb as much as ever. I don’t think I can move, so even though it’s uncomfortable to sit in the same position for nearly twenty-four hours, I don’t dare move a muscle until the sun rises the next morning and Jasper brings me more water.
“You need to drink more, mate,” he says gently.
“Why?” I ask pathetically, knowing full well I don’t intend to die, but damn would that feel good right now.
“You going to leave that girl of yours to fend for herself?”
“No,” I whisper, and then push my body. But I cry out in pain as the thick scabs rip in several places. Warm blood drips down my back, but with another push of effort, I manage to sit up completely. He holds the water to my lips and helps tip my head back.
Well, isn’t that cute. I can’t even move enough to shake my head at how pathetic I am.
“What torture will I endure today?” I ask him.
“Nothing, if the captain has any brains left.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Doubtful,” I mutter.
He ignores me. “I think he’s realized he pushed you a bit too far. You won’t survive much more, if you ask me.”
“Dying would be one form of success.”
His eyebrows pull down, lips tilting into a frown.
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to die. You know, you could end this war, though. Just by offing me.”
He purses his lips. “It’s that easy, eh?”
I nod. “They need me to win against that last bit of resistance. Without me, Whitley would just be a siren, and my mother just the Siren Queen. They couldn’t defeat the Sea King. Boom, war over.”
“Just you dead, huh?” he seems to consider this for a long moment.
“I tried to kill myself the first time around. Just so they wouldn’t win.”
He tilts his head. “Tried to?”
I take another sip of water on my own this time. “They’d just turned Whitley, right after I’d fallen in love, and used her to control me. I didn’t see any other hope. So better to die and ruin their plans than to watch helplessly as they came to fruition.”
“What stopped you?”
“She did,” I whisper. “Whitley. She wouldn’t let me.”
He nods. “And that was your hope.”
I bite the inside of my lip, the smallest clench of muscles sending a ricochet of pain through my whole body. I groan and wince.
“Easy there, mate.”
I nod. “She was still in there, somewhere. We’ve been fighting to keep her on the surface since. We’re not doing so hot at the moment.” I close my eyes.
“No kidding.”
I do wonder if I’ve told him too much. I never did establish I could trust him. And seeing as he’s the one that untied me, and Stede never punished him—well, I’m certain he had permission. Does that mean every conversation has been Stede-approved? Every sip of water, every extra bite of bread?
Possibly. But I hurt too much to care at the moment. If trusting Jasper is the reason I lose, then so be it. It’s too late to care now.
“What does Stede have over the Siren Queen?” I ask, deciding if I’ve comprised myself, perhaps I can get something in return.
“Two things,” he says, looking at his cuticles casually. His voice is low though, like he doesn’t want to be heard. “One, the means to call the... King guy.”
“What, like some magical item?”
He shakes his head. “Information. He won’t give it up until the time comes. That’s his only defense against her. Only insurance she won’t kill him to take it.”
I nod. Makes sense. “And the other?”
“Those shackles.”
“What do those do?”
“A magic dimmer, apparently. They’re going to—”
He pauses, looking over the ship, careful with his next words. “They’re going to put them on you.”
My eyebrows pull down. “When? Why not now?”
He shrugs. “They don’t want to do it too soon in case it causes you to lose... your inheritance? Whatever that nonsense means. But after—well, it seems they’re afraid of your power.”
I nod. They need me now. It’s hard enough to control us already. If I inherit the power they’re hoping I will, I’ll be more powerful than all of them. There is massive risk in the smallest slip after the battle. My stomach sinks just at that thought. I don’t want that power. Want nothing to do with it.
“So, after we kill him, they’ll shackle me and that’ll keep me in line forever.”
“Something like that.”
Well, it seems they’ve thought of everything.
“Sorry for more bad news, friend.”
I shrug. “You could still end it all,” I tell him, with a side eye, testing him. He says he’s helpi
ng me because he doesn’t want a siren-ruled sea. He wants Stede to lose. In that case, all he’d have to do is kill me and achieve the same purpose.
He stands and brushes his pants. “That would mean certain death for me.” He shrugs. “Coward, remember? A few shared secrets with the enemy is one thing. Outright rebellion with no possibility of escape... that’s entirely another.”
Whitley
I don’t know how many days pass until I am finally pulled from the water and brought onto the still sailing ship’s deck.
I keep my eyes cast to the ground. Energy, magic, purr around me. My knees wobble as I try to stand on human feet. Where are my fins? I wonder.
Two webbed hands grab my upper arms to keep me upright, their magic sizzling into mine even as I stand here. Where am I? I wonder.
I close my eyes as I consider all the questions swirling around my mind. The confusing feelings in my chest.
“Are you ready to prove yourself?” a slithering voice whispers in my ear.
Master. I tilt my head as I take her in. “How?” I ask.
She smiles, exposing a row of sharp teeth. “I will show you.”
We cross the ship, my knees buckling, and the sirens around me hold me upright. They follow, their tails still intact. My eyebrows pull down. Why do I get feet when they keep their scales and tales? They slither while I walk on weak knees. Not fair.
We stop beside the large masts shooting up into the sky, white sails billowing in thick gusts of wind. “Bring him out.”
I search the ship for a clue as to who the “him” is. There is a hunched form at the bow of the ship—still several feet away, with many bodies between us. The person’s back is ripped to shreds, a horrible array of reds and blacks. I wince and look away.
Out from another door, presumably leading below deck, two pirates carry a young boy. Too skinny, with dark skin and overgrown hair.
My heart stops.
Treacherous Love Page 21
